Drabbles
by FourthDixieChick
Summary: A series of drabbles, mostly Xandercentric. Chapter 8 added 30 Oct. 05: Xander gives Faith a birthday present this is longer than drabble
1. Unexpected

"Unexpected" Drabble for Open on Sunday Challenge

Xander POV

Rating: G

Dedicated to NWHepcat, because "Indelible" is just amazing

LA, Cleveland, London – he couldn't stay in any of those places. There were just too many women who reminded him of Anya. It was usually the hair color. The problem? Anya was too good of Clairol customer. Blonde hair, strawberry blonde, light brown – they all reminded him of Anya. He jumped at the chance to go to Africa.

It took almost two years, but he stopped thinking of Anya whenever he saw a woman who even vaguely resembled her. He was in Jo-burg when a flash of a honey brown mane brought Dawn to his mind's eye. That was unexpected.


	2. Sound

"Sound" Drabble for Open on Sunday Challenge

Rating: G

Setting: Post "Chosen"

Xander POV

The sounds are so different here. There's no traffic, television or radio here. Just the occasional "jambo," or scrape of pebbles on the wood board in a bao game. Sometimes, the ngomas with all the hand-clapping, foot stomping and drums break up the silence. I hear hoofbeats like thunder during the migrations. Often, I can hear lions roar, or elephants trumpet.

Some sounds are the same. A demon's victims screaming in pain, the weird swooshing sound a battle-axe makes cutting off a demon's head, a mother crying when I tell her that her daughter is dead.

I like the quiet.

jambo ("YAM-boh") Tanzanian greeting

bao (BAH-oh") – traditional African game played with beans or pebbles on a wooden board with two parallel rows of holes

ngomas ("un-GOH-mahs") traditional dances


	3. African Night Flight

Drabble"African Night Flight"

Originally written for the Open on Sunday - David Bowie song title challenge. (When I saw this song title, I just knew I had to write about Xander (I mean, besides the fact the he's my favorite Buffyverse character!) However, after the first sentence, a lyric fragment entered my head and changed the direction of the piece.)

Xander ran for the plane, an aged puddle jumper that he hoped would make it to the nearest international airport, where he'd catch the first British Airways flight to Heathrow he could get. Pearce, the pilot, had already started the engine and was beginning to taxi down the runway.

As if air travel weren't hard enough, he had to kill a pack of pissed off demonic hyenas that tracked him to the airport. Xander figured they'd sensed some trace of his hyena possession, back in high school, and didn't want him to leave. Well, if he didn't get to London, he'd face something more horrifying than a pack of demons wanting to tear him apart.

Xander reached the plane's open door, and threw first his rucksack, then the still bloody machete into the cabin. The plane's wheels left the earth. Still running, Xander managed to grab hold of the cabin door and hoist himself into the plane. "Wasn't sure you would make it," Pearce said as he pulled back on the controls, quickly bringing the plane high enough to clear the tree line.

"Of course I made it. Now, get me to the church on time. Last thing I want is for Dawn to think I left her at the altar."


	4. Dialog

Dialogue Drabble: Xander/Dawn/Police Officer

Originally written for the Open on Sunday Dialog Drabble

"Officer, I know I was carrying an axe, but I'm not an axe murderer."

"No, Xander just dates axe murderers."

"I'll have you know that none of my dates ever tried to kill me with an axe."

"What about Eleni in Budapest?"

"You're thinking of Irina in Prague, and that was a hatchet, not an axe."

"Well, Willow went after you with an axe!"

"Yeah, but we weren't dating, so it doesn't count."

"Can we get back to the part of the interrogation where the suspect—that's you, Harris- answers my questions, and the witness—that's you, Summers—keeps quiet?"


	5. Hands

Hands

Written for the Open On Sunday Community Drabble Challenge (My first attempt to write anything related to BtVS)

Faith POV

She can't remember when she first noticed his hands. If you just met him, you'd remember the eye patch more than anything else. More than the chocolate brown remaining eye, or his lopsisded grin. But damn if she couldn't stop looking at his hands: callused from working with tools, tan from working too long in the sun. The way he held a hammer, fixing whatever was broken. The way he'd hold Dawn, or Willow – fixing whoever was broken. So different from her own—callused from holding weapons, not tools-that were once wrapped around his throat, almost ending his life.


	6. Changes

Changes Drabble

(Post Chosen / Angel season 4)

Kate Lockley began her 2,400 mile drive. The application process had taken a while; to find a position equal to or higher than the one she had with the LAPD. Her superiors had made sure her career hit a dead end. Turns out, they knew about the supernatural, but were paid off by Wolfram and Hart to ignore it. She was looking forward to her new job in a new city, free from demonic influence; she was ready for a change.

'Cleveland, Ohio, get ready to meet your new Chief of Detectives,' she thought as she pulled onto the interstate.


	7. Fall Hard

When I fall, I fall hard. Like the first time I saw Buffy, and I mean that literally. She looked so beautiful, standing there in the sunlight. She smiled, and I skated into the handrail.

I didn't realize how hard I had fallen for Cordelia, until after I lost her.

I never meant to fall for Anya, but I did. Who in his right mind would fall in love with an ex-vengeance demon? Yeah, I guess that explains a lot about me.

After Anya, I didn't think I could ever fall in love again. And certainly not with Dawn Summers.


	8. The 648 Scout

The characters belong to Joss Whedon, all mistakes are mine

Written for keith5by5 for Halloween, who requested Xander giving Faith a birthday present.

"The 648 Scout"

"I don't see why Xander has to lie about it," Dawn grumbled. "It's her birthday, you're supposed to get presents on your birthday," she said as she pulled the curtain back, watching Xander and Faith walk to the garage.

"Yes, Dawn, normal people understand this," Buffy said from the sofa as she flipped through a fashion magazine. "Faith-people, however, have suspicions and create ulterior motives where none exist. Well, there was the brief Robin-dating period when she dropped her guard a little, but he made her all not-trusty again when he dumped her after last year's Apocalypse. So, don't let it slip how much money Xander spent on her present."

"Thanks for the reminder, Buffy, and for treating me like I'm five. I get Faith; but I don't get _Xander_. If anyone should have issues here, it's Xander. He's wooing someone who tried to kill him."

"Who hasn't tried to kill Xander at one point? I guess just Giles, and you – the Tazer doesn't count—Wait!" Buffy tossed the magazine and ran to the window. "Wooing? Xander isn't wooing Faith! Is he?"

Dawn moved to make room for her sister. "Sure he is, he just doesn't know it yet!"

"What does that mean? And anyway, it's 2005 – does anybody really 'woo' anyone anymore?"

Dawn smiled. "Xander does, and that's a good thing, 'cause Faith needs some wooing."

"I think Faith prefers to do the wooing," Buffy said under her breath.

Faith reluctantly followed Xander to the garage. "So, what is this about, Harris?" she spat out. She couldn't wait for Harris to go back to Kenya in November. Sure, all the junior Slayers loved having the guy around, and the dormitory never looked better. Not only did he repair the damage the horde of Qyesynx demons caused during the annual Apocalypse, but Xander also put up an addition. He even designed a master suite for Faith, complete with spa tub, the bastard. Yeah, all that's great; but he made Faith jumpy. Not in the 'I'm surrounded by a pack of vampires and I only got one stake' kinda way, but in the 'I've regressed to junior high and I'm crushing on a guy so I can barely say anything in his presence and I'm overcompensating by being mean to him' kind of way. So, as far as Faith was concerned, the sooner Xander put Cleveland in his rearview mirror, the better.

Xander stopped in front of the garage. "Faith, what's with the permanent scowl these days?" he asked. Faith started to answer, but became distracted when Xander bent down to open the garage door. "I mean, it's summer, so slow season on the Hellmouth."

Faith grinned, or perhaps leered, as she admired the man before her. He was tall, lean, tan, and still had his sense of humor – now matter how much shit the world threw at him. Xander's perpetual smile was at odds with the menacing look his eye patch gave him. 'Africa sure agrees with Xander,' she thought. 'And so do those faded jeans. Damn, I must have it bad if I think he makes a grease-stained t-shirt look good.'

"And," Xander continued, "It's your birthday, so that means ice cream, cake and presents!" Xander stood up again.

Faith quickly changed her expression, and crossed her arms. "Yeah, well, I'm one of not-enough teachers at a school for super-powered girls – last thing I need is for said girls to get a sugar rush."

"Still with the scowling? Well, if you don't want cake & ice cream, that's your loss. I hope this present will change your attitude," Xander said, waving his hand at the garage. Inside were several Vespa scooters, in an array of colors. In front there appeared to be another scooter, covered with a sheet.

"Oh, so it's finally my turn for a scooter? Thanks, but no thanks. I know the Council saves tons of money on gas by givin' us the Vespas, but I'd rather walk than be seen on one of those. 'Sides, I'm staff– I got a Council-issued Jeep to drive." Faith turned away.

"C'mon Faith, don't you think I know you better than that?" Xander asked, and for the first time he since he came to Cleveland in May, he was not smiling.

Faith took a deep breath. "OK, if it'll make you happy," Faith acquiesced.

Xander smiled that goofy smile of his. "I'm hoping it will make _you_ happy, Faith," he said.

She reached the covered bike in three strides, grabbed the sheet, and pulled it off. Faith couldn't' believe what she saw. "It's-it's an Indian Scout!" Faith turned to Xander. "This is wicked pissah!" The scowl was finally gone, replaced by a brilliant smile. Xander knew better than to mention how cute her dimples looked.

"Yes! She's smiling for a change!" Xander said as he punched a fist in the air. "Actually, it's a 648 Scout racer– Indian only made fifty of them in 1948--"

"The last year they made the Scouts!" Faith finished. She knelt down to inspect the bike. "It's the same model Floyd Emde rode when he won the 1948 Daytona 200--my grandpop was at that race!" Faith exclaimed, never taking her eyes off of the classic motorcycle. "He told me that story so many times before he died, sometimes I think I was there, too," she added softly.

Xander's expression softened. "Yeah, I remember you telling me. That's why I got it for you."

Faith stood up and walked to Xander. "You remember that? From all those years ago?" They stood only inches from each other; Faith's expression was neutral.

Xander couldn't help himself. Before he realized what he was doing, he brushed a stray lock of Faith's hair behind he ear, and caressed her cheek. "Yeah, I remember," he whispered.

Faith reached up and covered Xander's hand with her own. "Thanks, Xander."

Xander smiled, and let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "I'm glad you like the bike."

"Yeah, that too. But I meant thanks for remembering somethin' nice about me, from before. Ya know, not just the bad times."

Xander waggled his brows – only slightly hampered by his eye patch. "Oh, I've got lots of good memories of us in Sunnydale."

Faith ran to the motorcycle, hopped on the seat, and started the engine. "Too bad it's only a one seater – sure would like to have you ridin' in the bitch seat!" Faith teased as she pulled out of the driveway.


	9. Sesame St Challenge response

For OpenOnSunday's "Sesame Street" challenge.

Post-series

Rating: G

All characters belong to Joss, all standard disclaimers apply.

"So what's the sitch?" Buffy asked as she entered the 'war room' of the New Watcher's Council HQ. Dawn and Xander were already seated at the round table. 'Never let Andrew name or furnish a room ever again,' she mused.

"Oh, the usual—prophecy of death, destruction, and Hell on Earth," Dawn replied without looking up from the centuries-old tome."

Xander looked up, with a small smile. "Yep, today's episode is brought to you by the letter 'A' for apocalypse, and the number '666.' But the good news is, Dawn's already found the magic ritual we need to prevent it."


End file.
